Princess of Power
by Meresger
Summary: Clark's first Earth word was "Lara." Wanna guess what his second was? A quick one shot Clana inspired by Clark at the end of "Memoria."


**Title:** Princess of Power  
**Author: **Meresger  
**Category:** General/Romance  
**Keywords:** Kiddie!Clark, Lara, She-Ra, Clana, ficlette  
**Rating:** G  
**Spoilers:** Memoria  
**Summary:** Clark's first Earth word was "Lara." Wanna guess what his second was? A quick one shot fic inspired by Clark at the end of "Memoria" and an addition to the many _SV_ inspirations for the future Man of Steel's costume.  
**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own She-Ra or Swifty, but I did have her crystal castle when I was five and it was pretty nifty! Nor do I own the _Smallville_ gang, much to my penniless shame. Props must go to Filmation Associates, Mattel Incorporated, and Hallmark Entertainment and Millar & Gough respectively!

**Author's Note on Edit**: I recently rewatched a first season SV on ABC Family that made mention of Lana having never been in the Fortress of Barnitude before. Oh, well. So they forgot all of this. I am also editing this to return Clark's middle name to "Jerome" which I had changed to "Joseph" on the request of a reviewer. I've recently found evidence from several websites that on _SV_ (like on _Lois&Clark_), Clark's middle name is not the same as in the DC comics. (I guess they made Lex's middle name "Joseph" to give props to both creators.)

Now that my atrocious attempt at lyrical poetry to avoid copyright infringement is over with, on with the ficlette! 

** Princess of Power **

Jonathan and Martha Kent stood on the back porch of their house looking at the barn. The loft window was open, lit with the old Christmas lights Jonathan had strung up when he built the loft for their four-year-old son, Clark so he could be alone and not leave them worrying that he had run off into the fields with his superhuman speed. 

"What if he never says anything else?" Martha sighed, watching Clark making use of the telescope they had bought for him. 

"He will," Jonathan spoke with conviction. "Come on. We didn't rent that movie to stand out here all night. Clark will be fine." 

Up in the loft, Clark watched his parents disappear inside the house. He doubted they knew he could hear them. He seemed to be able to hear much better than either of them. This wasn't the first conversation about this topic Clark had overheard. He woke often in the night crying out the word "Lara," though he didn't know who or what it meant. He suspected this was a who, someone from before the "accident" that he didn't really remember either, just that it was loud and he'd been wandering in a smoking field when Jonathan and Martha found him. 

Clark knew that he could say more than that if he wanted to. He simply didn't, though he couldn't decide exactly why that was. He understood everyone perfectly fine, but every time he opened his mouth to respond the words seemed to get stuck in this throat and he clamed up. Part of it, he thought, might simply be that he felt just a little lonely and angry with his parents (for that was who they said they were) for never letting him play with other children. 

If his parents had to go to town, he had to stay in the truck and watch the people walking by wondering what it would be like to walk among them and laugh with the children his age. Like the girl in the flower shop who his mother said was named "Lana" which was close to "Lara" but not quite. She would always wave at him exuberantly through the store front window until the dark haired woman tugged her back among the flowers and out of sight. He wanted so desperately to go with her. . . . 

As such, the extent of Clark's interaction with the outside world remained television which was enough to inform him of the holiday called "Halloween" and "trick-or-treating" which his parents did not even bring up. Not that they would let him have sweets anyway. 

And the reason they always gave for everything was that other children didn't have his abilities, that he was special and couldn't risk exposing the things he could do but couldn't control. A part of him did understand this as he didn't want to hurt someone accidentally because he was too strong, but being kept apart from everyone didn't make that sound special. It made it sound abnormal. It made _him_ abnormal. 

Maybe, Clark reasoned, if he wasn't so lonely all the time it would make the nightmares go away, the horrible dreams of falling, hurtling, and tumbling that always end with a sudden and terrifying impact after which he'd wake up screaming for the mysterious "Lara" who never came to comfort him. 

Leaving the telescope, Clark padded barefoot to the old couch he had helped his father haul up to the loft and laid down, staring up at the rafters, eyes burning with unshed tears. He was so lonely. He felt like he would never fit in and he didn't understand why he had to be different. 

The squeaking of the stairs startled him from his thoughts. His dad had said he could stay up while they watched the movie. . . . 

Clark sat up and turned around to find neither of his parents on the landing, but the little girl from the flower shop. She wore a white skirt and tanktop with some weird gold and blue design on the front, a crown-like-thing on her head, and a plastic red cape fastened around her neck. She was carrying a plastic jack-o'-lantern and a small backpack with some cartoon character on it that greatly resembled what he deduced to be her Halloween costume. 

She hesitated a moment before speaking. "My Aunt Nell wouldn't let me eat my candy so I've run away and I saw the light was on in your barn. My name's Lana," she introduced. "You don't mind I stay here do you? I'll share my candy with you," she offered. 

"Lana," he repeated, liking the way it flowed off of his tongue and told her honestly, "I don't mind. I'm Clark." 

She smiled brilliantly, her cheeks dimpling. "Thanks, Clark!" 

Clark found himself grinning at this caped candy-bearing girl, and his earlier misery was completely forgotten as they sat down on the couch and began sorting through the different kinds of candy in her orange bucket. 

Lana opened her small backpack as well and pulled out her meager possessions including a toy sword and stuffed winged unicorn. "This is Swifty. He can fly. I wish I could fly," she said through a mouth-full of Reeces Pieces. 

"I don't like heights." Clark supposed it had to do with nightmare. 

Lana scrunched her nose. "Really? You're weird, Clark." 

"You wear a red cape," he pointed out smartly. 

She rolled her eyes. "Not always! I'm supposed to be She-Ra for Halloween," Lana explained. "She's the best! She lives on another planet and has a big crystal castle and fights bad guys with her super powers! Aunt Nell says there's no such thing as aliens though. She wanted me to be a fairy princess again." Lana scowled deeply at this, tears welling up her eyes. "I don't ever want to be one again, though. Magic wishes don't make people come back. If I had superpowers then I'd make sure people never had to go away like Mom and Dad. I'd stop bad things from happening. . .like the meteors. . . ." 

Clark didn't know what to say. Even if he was a bit stronger and faster than most people it wasn't exactly superpower powerful like the Warrior Angel cartoon on television. He felt bad about her parents though and sympathized. "I think my parents died to," he finally said. "The Kents found me in a field that day and they adopted me. I don't remember anything before that so I can't really miss them. . . ." 

Lana patted his arm. "I'm sorry, Clark. Sometimes I wish I didn't remember seeing them die, but I suppose I'd be sad if I didn't cause I know they loved me and I don't really think Aunt Nell likes taking care of me." 

Clark glanced toward the house. "Sometimes I don't think they like taking care of me either." 

A silence lapsed as they chewed on caramels and when she swallowed, Lana dug into her bag again and pulled out a blue plastic device. She grinned displaying caramel coated teeth. "Hey, Clark, wanna play doctor?" 

Now, Clark had never been to the doctor and his parents seemed very unnerved by the idea but he would have done just about anything Lana suggested including flying if he were capable. "Sure," he agreed, not wanting to let on that he had no clue how one played "doctor." 

And so it was that ninety-three minutes later, Clark had decided he really didn't understand this fear of doctors and maybe he wasn't so very different after all. Being examined by Lana was quite enjoyable and he was looking forward to having his go with the "steph-e-scope." Perched on the back of the couch, now wearing Lana's cape (she insisted saying he looked good in it) Clark eagerly watched his new best friend pull off her chocolate-stained top. 

"CLARK JEROME KENT!?" 

Clark startled and in the process of whipping his head around toward his mother's shocked voice, lost his balance and tumbled off to the floor where he landed with a muffled thud. 

"Clark!" Lana cried out, scrambling to peer over at him. He offered her a sheepish grin before sitting up and looking guiltily at his mother who recovered her wits and inquired: 

"Lana what are you doing here?" 

"I ran away," Lana replied smartly. 

Martha sighed. "Lana, honey, put your shirt on and get your things. You aunt will be terribly worried." 

"Do I have to? Aunt Nell isn't any fun. I want to stay here with Clark. _Please_, can I stay?" 

Clark stood up and crossed his arms, trying to look equally petulant. Lana actually wanted to stay with him! He couldn't be that weird if someone as wonderful as her liked him. 

"_Clark_ has to brush his teeth and go to bed and will be having a talk with me and his father in the morning. Both of you _downstairs_." 

Lana pouted but pulled her shirt back on and shoved her toys into her backpack. Reluctantly, they both followed his mother down the steps and across the law to the house. The hems of his blue flannel pajama bottoms were soak by the time they reached the back porch where she ordered them to sit and wait. 

For some minutes they sat there in silence looking up at the stars while listening in on his father's one-sided conversation beyond the screen door. It that didn't sound promising. Nell would be here in five minutes to take Lana away. 

Looking back at her, Clark thought she looked even more perfect in the blue glow of the moonlight. Her tiara threatened to slip off as she dropped her gaze earthward again and Clark reached out to quickly to stop it just as Lana turned her head and leaned toward him. Unexpectedly, their lips met. He noted that she tasted a mix of chocolate, peanut butter, mint, and caramel before there was a bright flash of headlights and truck pulled up. 

Nell Potter got out and frowned at them. Then glared at his mother who'd come out onto the porch. "Just what has your son done to my niece?" 

"Excuse me!?" His mother shrieked. 

"Lana, get your things. You won't be coming back here," Nell said dropping the steph-e-scope Lana had been twisting around her finger into the empty candy bucket. It hit with a hollow _thunk_ and Clark felt an equally hollow sensation opening up in his chest at the prospect of Lana's departure. 

"But I wanna stay with Clark!" Lana protested, digging her heals into the dirt. 

"Lana. Do not get yourself in even more trouble than you are! Running away in the middle of the night! You could have gotten lost and badly hurt!" 

Lana relaxed and pouted, tears brimming her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking at her feet. "I just wanted candy. . . ." 

"And you had to take it a mile from the house?" 

Lana shrugged, not meeting her aunt's eyes. Nell sighed and turned her gaze on Clark. His mother sighed as well. "Clark, give Lana back her cape," she ordered and he threw a pleading look in return. Did he have to? 

"It's okay, Mrs. Kent. I gave it to him," Lana told her and looking at Clark added apologetically, "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble." 

He tried to shrug as if it was no big deal. 

"Fine then," Nell said with a sigh, "maybe it'll get you over this whole rebellious alien princess obsession. Come on." 

As she was led away to the truck she smiled sadly and waved. "Bye, Clark!" 

"Bye, Lana," Clark returned before realizing he'd just slipped up. In the glow of tail lights his parents both look at him in shock and he smiled sheepishly. 

That night Clark dreamed of flying among the stars above Smallville in Lana's red cape and when he woke the next morning he could have sworn that for just a second he was floating. 

**Fin**


End file.
